‹ Prequel: I Do Not Fall For Boys
I've Got A Mosaic Heart
Your face is but a canvas, shame the paint's run
BAM’S POV
“Oh...that much” I replied biting my lip.
“Ville, look at me” I pleaded but he ignored me. I leaned over and turned his finely structured face to me. His eyes met mine...then his puke met my shirt. He chucked up everywhere on me. I couldn’t help but feel a little cut to see him like this. Being on jackass I can deal with puke which I guess comes in handy, in a way.
“Come on I think you’ve had enough now” I told him, trying to pry the bottle from his hand, he was so drunk he didn’t even try to resist he just slumped over and mumbled to himself. I think he was singing but it was in Finnish so I had no idea what he was on about.
“What’s that disgusting smell...hey, what happened here?” I heard Lindé say. I turned to see him walking into the room.
I gave him a look that said, just don’t bother asking, then went into the bathroom to find a towel or something to clean the puke off Ville who was now passed out.
I came back, face cloth in hand and began to clean to puke off Ville. His face was like a canvas, a perfect delicate artwork that was priceless and no matter what anyone would give you for it you would never sell it if your life depended on it. His soft pink lips quivered slightly as I ran the cloth along them. His face was like a canvas - it was so pretty but the paint was running and peeling.
When I finally cleaned the remaining puke from his face I changed, threw his barfed on clothes in the wash and returned to the room to find Lindé still standing there.
“He’ll understand” Lindé said from the other side of the room, unable to stand the still remaining repulsive smell of vomit.
“I doubt it” I replied, pulling the now clean covers up over Ville.
“Why, something happen?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, blonde dreads tumbling over his shoulders.
No, nothing did happen, that’s my point.
“He just seems kind of distant I guess” I replied, deciding that was the less complicated answer.
“He’ll come around, it’s probably just the initial reaction. Ville’s...” Lindé stumbled to finish the sentence.
“Ville” I whispered softly, flicking off the light.
“Oh...that much” I replied biting my lip.
“Ville, look at me” I pleaded but he ignored me. I leaned over and turned his finely structured face to me. His eyes met mine...then his puke met my shirt. He chucked up everywhere on me. I couldn’t help but feel a little cut to see him like this. Being on jackass I can deal with puke which I guess comes in handy, in a way.
“Come on I think you’ve had enough now” I told him, trying to pry the bottle from his hand, he was so drunk he didn’t even try to resist he just slumped over and mumbled to himself. I think he was singing but it was in Finnish so I had no idea what he was on about.
“What’s that disgusting smell...hey, what happened here?” I heard Lindé say. I turned to see him walking into the room.
I gave him a look that said, just don’t bother asking, then went into the bathroom to find a towel or something to clean the puke off Ville who was now passed out.
I came back, face cloth in hand and began to clean to puke off Ville. His face was like a canvas, a perfect delicate artwork that was priceless and no matter what anyone would give you for it you would never sell it if your life depended on it. His soft pink lips quivered slightly as I ran the cloth along them. His face was like a canvas - it was so pretty but the paint was running and peeling.
When I finally cleaned the remaining puke from his face I changed, threw his barfed on clothes in the wash and returned to the room to find Lindé still standing there.
“He’ll understand” Lindé said from the other side of the room, unable to stand the still remaining repulsive smell of vomit.
“I doubt it” I replied, pulling the now clean covers up over Ville.
“Why, something happen?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, blonde dreads tumbling over his shoulders.
No, nothing did happen, that’s my point.
“He just seems kind of distant I guess” I replied, deciding that was the less complicated answer.
“He’ll come around, it’s probably just the initial reaction. Ville’s...” Lindé stumbled to finish the sentence.
“Ville” I whispered softly, flicking off the light.